


October 26–29. "But if you cannot see it, at least it can't get any worse!"

by Qophia



Series: Qoph's Fictober 2018 [26]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blood Magic, Deep Roads, Ficlet, Fictober, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qophia/pseuds/Qophia
Summary: In the aftermath of the rockfall, the darkness was deafening, thundering in Neria Surana’s ears as much as it blinded her eyes.





	October 26–29. "But if you cannot see it, at least it can't get any worse!"

**Author's Note:**

> hi guess who got her roommate's super gross cold and missed several days of writing
> 
> h/t to [Paradigm_F](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradigm_F/) for the mashup prompt and to [coldturkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldturkey/) for suggesting the deep roads

In the aftermath of the rockfall, the darkness was deafening, thundering in Neria Surana’s ears as much as it blinded her eyes. Cut off from the soft illumination of the lava channels that lined the Deep Roads, she felt the abrupt loss of light as a dense, solid thing, a pitch blanket over her face touching her as palpably as the heartbeats that told her that her companions were all safe.

“I don’t want to sound critical...”

Here we go. Neria huffed out an frustrated breath. “Of course! By all means, let us hear _once again_ from the man who refused to be in charge but _also_ wants to point out everything he thinks I did wrong the second it’s too late to change it.”

“Yes, well, um,” Alistair stammered. “I was just going to say, _maybe_ trapping us in the dark with only a heap of boulders to protect us from whatever remains of a slavering horde of darkspawn was not the best plan. For... future reference?”

Ugh. She could all but see the self-effacing hangdog grin. Like it excused anything.

“Ah,” Zevran’s voice rang out brightly from a few feet away, “but if you cannot see it, then at least it cannot get any worse!”

“Typical, elf. It can _always_ get worse.”

“Sten, my friend, if only we could light our way with your boundless optimism.”

“Actually,” Alistair said, “why _are_ we sitting here in the dark?”

Zevran laughed. “I would not have guessed _you_ would be the one to suggest a more entertaining activity, Alistair. Though perhaps the Deep Roads are not the best setting to first experiment with such endeavors—and I would not want our large stern friend to feel left out.”

Sten heaved a resigned sigh as Alistair sputtered.

After a moment more, Zevran tsked. “What a pity. I was hoping that blush of yours might actually glow, but apparently we have no such luck.”

“What I _meant_ was,” Alistair continued, having apparently regained his voice, “doesn’t Neria’s staff usually glow? Or,” and she could tell he'd turned his head in her general direction as his voice moved, “can’t you... bind a wisp or something?”

“Normally, sure. But I completely depleted the last of my mana triggering that rockfall. We’ll rest here until it’s restored—there’s no telling how long until we reach the surface, and I’m not wasting lyrium when time will do the trick.”

“Can’t you...” Neria could practically hear the hesitant wiggle of Alistair's fingers.

“Can’t I what?”

“You know. With the... thing.”

“The thing?”

“The thing. That you do. That I’m not sure I’m supposed to know about?”

“Oh, the blood magic? That thing?”

“... Yes. The... blood magic. Thing.”

“Let me get this straight. You, a templar—”

“Former almost-templar, thank you.”

“—Want an elven mage to use up part of her own life essence, or rip part of the life essence from the one other person here currently bleeding, who I am sure _entirely coincidentally_ happens to _also_ be an elf, so that _your shemlen templar ass_ can _stare_ at a cave full of nothing instead of _imagining_ a cave full of nothing?”

“I—. Well, no, not when you put it like that.”

“Oh. _Well_. Thank the Maker I phrased it _reasonably,_ then. It will be a quarter-hour, and then we can move. I have faith you’ll _somehow survive_ until then.”

“Under the Qun...” Sten began.

Neria rolled her eyes back into her skull and allowed her jaw to gape in a silent scream.

This was going to be the longest 15 minutes of her life.


End file.
